


Young and Sweet and Pure as Rain

by shyverrr (akira_marq)



Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: 3+1, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Season 8 G2, both chapters could stand alone, but jankos is there for him, he just wants some Peace and Quiet, its a hard-knock love life for perkz, poor wunder, the second chapter is fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 05:16:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17238089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akira_marq/pseuds/shyverrr
Summary: Marcin makes Luka feel young and sweet and pure as rain.Past PerkBiven, ZverkZ, and Perksen, with implied Zvithy and mentioned implied Hjadid. A little emotional trauma but nothing in detail. Kind of a 3+1 but not really.





	1. 1/2/3

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first published fanfic :) here goes nothing!  
> Is it too late to publish writing from Season 8? nahhhhhh  
> All mistakes are my own.

1\. Febiven was his first.

They had managed to fall into a kind of love between the cameras and matches, behind their teams’ backs, with a forbidden air that had at the time reminded Luka of Romeo and Juliet. He was so naive. Looking back he wishes he never made that analogy because just like the star-crossed lovers, their tale ended painfully.

They were too young to know anything and yet they wanted to know it all, so they pushed themselves to grow up, bypassing the awkward first dates for heavy makeout sessions in the LCS bathrooms, trading cute little texts and notes passed during class in favour of jerking each other off in the closets.

Febiven and Luka were an okay pair, maybe even good together at first. They were infatuated, so being near each other was joyous; lonely, so having someone made them feel whole; horny, so a body to fuck was perfect for them, and the relationship satisfied their shallow wants. But in the end, being with Febiven so seriously so soon ripped Luka’s youth from him with little hope of ever getting it back.

This wasn’t what he had dreamed of having.

There was no more fawning over cute boys at school while friends rolled their eyes, no stolen kisses in the halls, no being the disgustingly adorable couple that everyone loved and hated simultaneously, no being late to class because they lost track of time or holding hands under the tables - just quick fucking backstage and bitten bruises on his neck, reminding Luka of who he was now, and that he hadn’t played the game of love perfectly, so he lost.

It’s natural for first love to end, and this was the excuse Febiven used to kill the relationship. Still, Luka felt it was his fault, and there was nobody close to tell him otherwise.

 

\---

 

2\. After Febiven decided he was done with all of it and Luka stopped calling him by name, Zven joined G2.

Not alone, though.

Jesper was never alone.

Once again Luka felt himself pining, but this time it was a different sort of want. Instead of feeling lust, he just felt envious of Mithy and Zven, the unstoppable bot-lane duo who always had someone and were a package deal, joined at the hip, never one without the other.

Luka decided that he wanted that. They seemed happy enough. Maybe if he could have one of them he would feel happy too - not broken and used the way Febiven had left him, but content and fulfilled.

He tried being the person he wanted to be first. Luka was sweet and kind and loving to Zven but to no avail, and he quickly realised what the problem was: Jesper had Alfonso for those sorts of things, and if Luka tried to compete on the same ground as Mithy, he would lose. So he changed the game.

He made himself the person that Zven didn’t have yet, that maybe he would want. Luka became a wild child, a boy who loved sex and could take anything anyone would give him, who wanted it rough and begged for more, who was different and bratty and looked gorgeous tied up, sprawled out, panting and crying and clutching the sheets.

For a while, it worked. Luka was… well, not exactly happy, but he at least had someone, right? Then Mithy decided he wanted Zven back, and when Luka lost that game because of something that he couldn't even control, he still blamed himself for not being enough, for listening to his body’s cries of pain rather than just let Zven do whatever he wanted.

When it ended, Luka wasn’t sure if he could change himself back.

 

\---

 

3\. There was no other way to describe Luka with Søren than “defiled”.

Apparently he was talked about, even revered among EU LCS players as a good and easy fuck, and word had crossed the pond to NA. It didn’t surprise Luka that Mithy had gossipped about him, but what hurt was that Zven had too. As though everything that he’d let the tall Swede do to him was his own desires, not those of his partner that he simply tried to satisfy so that he would have someone, _anyone_ , by his side.

It was too soon, everything went too fast. Luka had no time to recover the shattered pieces of himself before Søren was knocking on his hotel room door.

It started out as innocent comfort, and Luka was grateful to have someone near who seemed to be able to sense the frustration and deep, hidden turmoil in him. But Søren had read the depths wrong. He thought that the smaller boy simply wanted someone to submit all of himself to in the lewdest way possible, lonely and heartbroken after Zven had so cruelly left him hopeless and returned to Mithy.

And Luka? What did he do about all of this?

At this point, he was used to doing anything for even the slightest bit of acceptance. Whether it be solo-killing so the casters would praise him or solo-carrying so people would shoot him a thumbs-up emote and go wild in allchat, he sought people’s approval the way a cold kitten seeks warmth. When Søren mistook his dreams of a gentle love for an aching to be filled, there was no other path he could take that wouldn’t anger the other mid-laner or at least not live up to expectations.

So he carried on as per usual, and let Søren do what he would.

Luka has never been one to disappoint.


	2. Y/S/P

Young.

When Luka learns that Jankos will be joining the team, he’s excited in a way that not Wunder nor Hjarnan and Wadid managed to thrill him. He and the jungler aren’t rivals - God knows he got enough of that with Søren - but they are friends with a history and enough banter to go around for hours in a ring of taunts, roasts, and laughs. Luka remembers Jankos from before the fling with Febiven got taken too far. They were just Twitter friends back then, occasionally getting onto the analyst desk and clashing in a rapid-fire round of insults, but still having that same sense of camaraderie, unified by their indestructible egos and hyped-up gameplay.

It takes only a month for Luka to learn to call Jankos Marcin behind the cameras. He’s not surprised when a crush develops soon after, but he is confused about the way this one feels. It isn’t the lust he felt with Febiven, both merely looking for an outlet, or the possessiveness with Zven that just wanted someone, anyone, and it’s also not the resigned acceptance he had of Søren’s desires. This is something he hasn’t felt in a while. It’s the nervous jitters of his high-school loves, and since he’s feeling like a teenager again, he flirts like it.

Luka and Marcin sling teasing words back and forth like they’ve been doing it for ages even though it’s scarcely been a Split, and their coy way of dancing around each other spills over into Twitter with face fusions and Valentines’ Day innuendoes. If they die during scrims, sometimes they’ll shoot each other a playful text or meme. To Grabbz’s dismay, the jungle-mid duo may even occasionally int just to have a few seconds to type a word or two into their texts, and Luka and Marcin’s deaths will even climb into double-digits if the coach doesn’t confiscate their phones like they’re schoolchildren. Even if he does, they always have League chat and, oddly enough, Post-Its.

One day, while he’s out on the town, Luka buys a pack of sticky notes and proceeds to write dumb little things like “XD”, “xaxaxaxaxa”, “KURRRRRWA”, and “ _ludice_ ” on them, then either plasters them over Marcin’s spot in the scrim room or quietly sneaks up on him and slaps them onto his shoulders. Of course, the other retaliates, stealing a chunk of the stack and doodling kaomojis and Polish phrases that Luka is too afraid to translate. Marcin is more subtle when he pins them, though, so sometimes Luka will find notes on his shirts or hoodies, even on his ass on a few memorable occasions and one on the back of his computer that he doesn’t notice until a month later.

Every once in a while Wadid or Hjarnan will nab a Post-It and troll them. Hjarnan takes a note with “best support eu” that Luka used to tease Marcin for playing Braum, and adds a heart before planting it on Wadid’s cheek with a smirk and over-exaggerated kissy face. Wadid responds with a mocking laugh and the same playful voice he used to call Jankos pretty in his vlog. (Luka hated that, by the way.) This time, though, the voice is directed at Hjarnan, so Luka doesn’t mind as much. It still pisses him off that his bot-lane teases him and his jungler, but as long as Wadid doesn’t take Marcin away from him the same way Mithy stole Zven, he can live with it.

What he doesn't account for is a few certain supports from two different teams making more trouble.

It's been a while since Luka met anyone in the scene who could speak Croatian - mostly because there aren't any other Croatians in LCS - so he's never been worried about censoring himself before.

Unfortunately for him, Misfits has a Slovenian support who's smarter than he lets on. Add in Fnatic’s equally clever Bulgarian support and it's a recipe for trouble.

Luka doesn't realise that they can vaguely understand the loving lines he wrote until Wadid posts a pic of the sticky-notes on the EU LCS Discord and he’s cursing his language because now he has the two supports in his DMs with winky faces and poor translations. Somehow the language barrier between Croatian, Slovenian, and Bulgarian is just thin enough that they can read what’s been scrawled over the notes, and Luka is ready to die of embarrassment.

He asks them to keep it a secret for now, and Hyli mostly lets the issue slide, only occasionally teasing him about Marcin. (As aggressive as the Pyke main is in game, he's pretty chill IRL.) But Mikyx is far more fiendish, probably picking up Maxlore's inability to give a fuck, and asks Luka about the Polish jungler whenever they duo or even before LCS games as an attempt to fluster him.

It reminds Luka of being teased by his friends about the cute girls at their school, and later, once he’d come out, about the pretty boys whose eyes lingered on him in the halls. The lighthearted feelings are very welcome, and he indulges in the airy love as long as he can. He finally feels like he’s reclaimed something from his past, something that he lost when he undertook the profession of esports player, something that none of his previous lovers - if any of them ever truly loved him - gave him.

Luka knows that he's really not that old, but he lives in a world where retirement comes at the ripe old age of 28. It's in this fast-paced life that he takes a step back and notices how carefree he feels in Marcin's presence.

He feels young.

 

\---

 

Sweet.

It’s in the funnel meta that G2 dominate and Luka gains another part of himself back.

Luka has never had someone who so fully supports him on the Rift as Marcin. Sure, his teams have always had a support player, and he knew he could rely on whoever was jungling for him, but these people were never truly meant to help him personally - the support’s first duty was understandably to their ADC, and the jungler usually prioritised objectives first with top and mid equally second, even if they were a supportive jungler.

He soon learns that having someone there by your side is intoxicating, and Luka feels unstoppable when he’s Kai’Sa with Marcin’s Braum next to him. The jungler surprisingly has few problems with temporarily giving up his jungle. Of course he complains, but even though he would be justified in hating Luka for being chosen as “The Carry”, he doesn’t speak one ill word of him or even glare. It’s a generous gesture from someone he wouldn’t have thought to expect one from.

The whole team teases Marcin frequently for being a remarkable funneller, calling him the best Braum or poking fun at how he’s a coinflip jungler but a reliable support. He takes it with grace, even running with the joke plenty of times. But more often than not he deflects praise to Luka, saying that supporting the best carry in the world is easy.

Luka is flattered.

It’s more than a kind gesture; it’s a doting sweetness he hadn’t felt since his failed attempts to woo Zven and Luka never realised how much he missed that.

He’s still cocky as hell with an oversized ego, but into his trademark blend of spitfire and sharp words he adds a little bit of something sweet just for Marcin, and after a month or so of cute teasing their combined efforts pay off. Marcin asks him out on a date.

They’re two boys who live in Germany but speak disappointingly few phrases of German, so finding fun places is difficult, but they figure out the movie system and go for a film and dinner. Luka is sure it was probably a good movie, but he may have been a bit distracted. Marcin pulls the traditional yawn-and-put-arm-over-the-shoulder, which makes Luka laugh, but he wraps an arm around the jungler’s waist anyway and they cuddle through the rest of the movie. Marcin kisses him on the head a couple times, so Luka kisses him on the cheek when the movie ends and they leave.

Dinner is a similar affair - Luka orders something fairly tasty but he’s paying much more attention to his jungler’s animated talking. Somehow they got on the topic of dogs versus cats, and Marcin has an unusually well-structured argument that Luka is ready to tear into.

The dinner ends with them splitting the bill and catching a bus, still discussing the intricacies of choosing a pet and what kind of animals they would keep if they could keep any.

On the way back to the gaming house, they get off the bus a stop early and walk the rest of the way holding hands. The cute and sweet nature of it all threatens to overwhelm Luka with emotions he hasn’t felt in a long time, so he changes the topic and babbles on about the meta and all the different funnel champs he wants to try in scrims.

Marcin ends up giving him a chaste kiss on the lips just to shut him up. Luka’s fairly certain his heart is going to explode from the feels.

When they reenter the G2 house they’re immediately assaulted by Hjarnan and Wadid being annoying as ever and asking for details about the date. To Luka’s displeasure they focus their attack on him, leaving him blushing red and grinning like an idiot while Marcin gets louder and louder by the second until they’re collectively such a commotion that Wunder - oh, poor Wunder - first slams the door to the gaming room, then AFKs his soloQ game to yell at them to shut the fuck up. Like most cries for silence in G2’s loud, loud house, it doesn’t work.

Luka and Marcin go out again a week later. This time, Marcin asks Luka to be his boyfriend, and what else could be said but yes? He’s not sure what he feels for the jungler who supports him in everything, but he knows that he wants to keep feeling these youthful and cute and sweet feelings for as long as he can.

 

\---

 

Pure.

They’re staying in a hotel when the text - inevitable to Luka’s mind, but still a touch disappointing - comes through. Marcin sends him a message one night inviting the mid-laner to his room. Naturally, Luka follows through and shows up at his door after scrims and dinner with the team, anxious in a loose grey tee and dark sweatpants, hoping that Marcin hadn’t been using him all this time for a quick fuck but also not really expecting anything more. Not like his past relationships had been any better. Even if he would have to do the dirty, being with Marcin made him feel infinitely better than he had with Febiven, Zven, and Søren combined.

As he stands waiting for his boyfriend to open the door, he decides that the jungler is good to him, enough to warrant a little… reward, even if Luka himself isn’t keen on having sex today (or pretty much ever, anymore), even if he’s been dreading the day Marcin wanted to do it. Mentally, he tries to psych himself up for the occasion and get into the mindset he’d been in with Jesper and Søren.

He’s interrupted by the door swinging open to reveal Marcin’s nervous expression.

“H-hi.” The jungler grins wide, and Luka can’t help but give a tiny smile in return.

“Hi yourself.”

Marcin’s eyes look him up and down quickly, then awkwardly dodge to the side before returning to gaze at his face. “You look cute. Like always.” Luka shifts and his smile broadens. He runs a hand over his blushing face as Marcin pulled the door open wider and stepped to the side. “Come on in.” Timidly, Luka enters the hotel suite Marcin is sharing with Grabbz and Wunder, and he waits for Marcin to close the door and lead him to the jungler’s room. The coach is thankfully absent and Wunder takes one look at the duo’s intertwined hands and blushing faces before assuming the worst.

“Oh my God.” Wunder pinches the bridge of his nose, then takes his book and flees from the room, presumably heading to the other team suite where Hjarnan and Wadid are staying. Luka’s not sure Wunder thought that through - he doesn’t doubt that the bot-laners are probably doing something worse because if those two aren’t bickering like a married couple, they’re either flirting or fucking. But he keeps his worried mouth shut and sits daintily on the bed while Marcin flops onto the other side, only to immediately get up and start rifling through his luggage.

“So… ah, how are we going to do… this?” asks Luka, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. There’s a part of him that wants to cry, or pass out, or die - maybe all three- but he could do any of those options later; there were more pressing concerns at the moment, particularly whether he’d be face-down in the sheets or facing his boyfriend. Honestly, Luka would usually prefer being face-up, but if he started crying halfway through then it would be easier to bury his tears in the sheets the other way around. He’s so busy wringing his hands that he barely notices what Marcin says next.

“Oh,” replies his jungler, “I was thinking we could watch a movie? Or a show or something. I have some two-player games, too, if you want to get your ass beat in Smash Bros.” He triumphantly pulls a fairly large tablet out of his backpack and tosses it gently onto the bed before setting his Nintendo Switch on the bedside stand, then sits on the bed, swings his legs to Luka's side, and lies down so that his body is half-curled around the mid-laner. “What do you wanna do?”

Luka just shifts around and wiggles his feet.

Looking at his clenched fists and the way he’s pulling at his t-shirt, Marcin asks Luka, “Are you nervous?” The mid-laner, who’s spoken barely ten words in the entire time he’s been in the jungler’s room, just makes an awkward face.

“I mean… just Worlds and stuff. It’s fine.” Regardless, Marcin reaches with one hand to hold Luka’s and with the other to pet his head. Luka obligingly leans down so his boyfriend can run a hand through his hair, and lets his hands be pulled away from worrying at his shirt hem to twine his fingers with Marcin’s.

They sit in the domestic silence for a bit as Marcin plays with Luka’s hands, curling and uncurling his fingers, eventually looking up at his darling’s face with a lovingly teasing glint in his eyes as he presses his lips to Luka’s knuckles. But Luka doesn’t respond with a shy giggle like he usually does, instead zoning out, lost in his mind. Marcin sits up.

“Lu? Is there anything I can do to help you?”

Finally Luka tears his eyes from the floor, but he still can’t make them meet his Polish sweetheart’s face and instead lets his eyes trace the outline of the man in front of him, taking in their linked hands and his relaxed posture in contrast to the nervous Croat’s tense body. “I’m fine. I just…”

“Yes?” says Marcin. “What is it?”

“I’m just confused, I guess.”

“Confused? About what?”

“I… well… our relationship.”

“Oh.” And suddenly Marcin is very, very worried. “Sorry, did I do something wrong? I’m so sorry, myszko, I just-”

“No,” says Luka, now also incredibly worried. “No no no, that’s not what I meant, I- no .” He takes a deep breath in an attempt to soothe his nerves. It doesn't help. “What I meant was… well, I guess I don’t know what to do right now.”

“What do you mean?” Marcin cautiously wraps an arm around Luka’s shoulders and draws the slighter man close to him. Luka leans into it, to Marcin’s relief.

“Everyone else I’ve ever… been with, I think you would say? Everyone else I’ve been with just seems to want sex, but… you’re different. So, I’m confused… I don’t know what to do.” His vulnerable words are accompanied by an awkward laugh. Clearly he’s not used to baring his soul like this.

“Oh, _myszko_ …” Slowly and tenderly, Marcin pulls his mid-laner closer, splaying his hands wide to draw Luka into a heart-warming embrace that the younger man quickly reciprocates. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He hums in thought. “Maybe later tonight? This is nice…” Nuzzling his head into Marcin’s shoulder and resting cheek on cheek, Luka squeezes him tighter and breathes deeply.

They sit there for a while, just enjoying the warmth and comfort of each other pressed close. When Marcin softly kisses Luka’s temple, the mid-laner giggles and smiles with half-closed eyes and heart-shaped lips, indulging in every second of their contact.

“I like you a lot,” says Marcin, out of the blue. Luka is momentarily caught off-guard. He pauses, and Marcin continues. “I know it’s… weird? No… I know it’s soon, but I want you to know that I like you a lot, and I like you for you, and… you don’t ever have to feel pressured into doing anything with me. I like you a lot and I’m happy to wait for you and help you. I like you a lot,” he says for what seems like the millionth time to Luka. The smaller man can’t help but turn his head and kiss Marcin’s cheek again and again until the elder is blushing violently and with an uncontrollable grin on his face. They break away to laugh before Marcin retaliates. He peppers Luka's face in chaste kisses - his eyelids, his forehead, his jaw and cheek and cheekbones, the edges of his smiling lips and the tip of his nose - then pulls back and cups a hand around Luka's head.

Luka smiled perplexedly up at Marcin when he doesn't make a move. “What?” he asks.

“Can I kiss you?”

He laughs awkwardly again, trying to lighten the tension that suddenly seems to fill the room. “You just were,” he says. Marcin isn't having any of it.

“You know what I mean.” His words, though sharp, are spoken in a gentle and loving tone. And Luka does. He does know what Marcin means.

They've kissed before, stolen kisses after stolen kills or delicate goodnight kisses after a date or light and comforting kisses to end a rough day, but Luka knows what Marcin is really asking. _Do you trust me? Will you let me pull you a little out of your comfort zone? Can you give me a tiny part of yourself if I swear to keep it safe and give you a tiny part of me? Do you_ trust _me?_ With anyone else - with Febiven or Jesper or Søren - he would've said no, but let them kiss him anyway.

With Marcin? With the man who teased him, who took care of him, who respected him? With the boyfriend who made him feel young and sweet for the first time in ages?

“Yes.”

They lock lips and the kiss slowly deepens until Luka is shuddering at how much emotion can be packed into one simple gesture and damn if his expectations don’t suddenly skyrocket. He’s had a thousand kisses before this one, from players wanting to fuck him or be fucked by him. He remembers the taste of alcohol that tainted all too many of his kisses, the ugliness of the lust that clouded the minds of those next to him, the feeling that he was some demon like Evelynn, cursed to do what he was growing to hate - seducing people without trying and feeling unspeakably compelled to follow through out of obligation.

But this one - this one is fireworks and joy, cool mint in his mouth and warm hands on his back, something close to love filling every fibre of his body, and his heart feels like it will burst of happiness. He’s never had a kiss so perfect, so wonderfully emotional and pure.

Somehow Marcin knows exactly when to pull away and let Luka breathe. They stay in a close embrace for what feels like forever and no time at all, then Luka kisses him again ever so softly on the lips. He hugs Luka and presses more dainty kisses to his cheekbones. Their cuddling continues until they’re both surprised by crashing thunder outside the window, and they laugh until they change topics and start up the Switch.

“You know I’m going to win, right?” teases Luka. “You’ve got jungle mechanics.” He snickers with a devilish grin, but Marcin just rolls his eyes.

“Knowing how to combo with LeBlanc won’t help you avoid me in Smash, _myszko_.”

Luka laughs in the half-mocking way he does. “What does that even mean? I know it’s like, a pet name, but what does it mean?”

“It means ‘little mouse’ in like, a cute way,” says Marcin with a dopey, lovestruck look on his face as he sets up the gaming system. “It works because you’re short.” He looks back with an amused glint in his eyes as Luka just keeps laughing.

“Ah, fuck you,” he says between giggles. “That’s actually pretty adorable.” Luka hums to himself as Marcin sits back down next to him, and he lays his head in Marcin’s lap. “Oh, I’ve got one - _dragi_. It’s kind of common, though.”

“What does it mean?”

“It means darling or dear.” He hums again, lost in thought, then giggles as he thinks of the perfect pet name. “ _Svjetloće_ ,” he says. “That one means light or shining. It works because you have light hair because you’re a dumb blonde.”

“Hey, fuck you,” says Marcin, but he’s smiling and there’s no heat behind his words. “That’s actually, like, so mean, no?”

“No, it’s not. Besides, it also works because you’re like a ray of light. Annoying as hell, but warm and nice and comforting.”

“Okay, now that was adorable.” Marcin leans down and kisses Luka once more. “Come on, _myszko_ , time to get crushed,” he teases as he finally begins a game.

“Those are some bold words for someone in attacking range.” They giggle and banter as they play through round after round of 1v1’s, Luka winning some, Marcin winning most.

Outside, the rain keeps falling. Luka has always loved rain. There’s something about the cleansing downpour that calls to him, that washes away his fears and tears along with the dirt and dust, that reminds him that he’s worthy of a second, third, fourth chance at love. There’s something about the rain that is light and uncaring and contentedly happy, and after his rough past loves he always wanted to feel that way.

Luckily for him, he has Marcin now, and he is free to be young and sweet and pure as rain.


End file.
